


Scrabble Shift

by carriecmoney



Series: Hall universe [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 02:13:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carriecmoney/pseuds/carriecmoney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Naturally, it was awkward. This was an experiment, he said, and I was simply a willing test subject.' AU of an AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scrabble Shift

"Hey, Art?"

"Hmm?"

"What's it like to kiss a guy?"

I shrugged, almost half asleep against his shoulder. "I's jus' kissin'," I slurred through a yawn. "Why, y'wanna try it or somethin'?"

"If you don't mind." A delayed response, then a jerk up and awake. He smiled nervously at my baffled look.

"What?"

"Just a little one, it doesn't have to be long or anything," he said, almost-begging, turning towards me. His leg folded between us. "I promise I won't ever say anything about it ever again-"

I stopped him with three fingers pressed over his mouth. He closed it. "If there's one thing I'm good at," I said, sliding the hand to under his chin, "it's 'no strings attached' sex."

A small squeak from the back of his throat. "Who said anything about _sex_?" I rolled my eyes, shifting my legs under me so I was at his eye level. He was flushing uncontrollably, but wasn't breaking contact.

"Sex, foreplay, same difference," I brushed it off. My other hand mirrored on the other side. I felt his throat as he swallowed. "If you don't relax, this'll be completely worthless," I told him softly, barely stroking down the sides of his neck. He closed his eyes - more like clenched - and moved a little closer. "Love, _relax_ ," I repeated, gripping his face and tugging him in. His eyes flew open as his arms flailed dramatically, one hand falling on my thigh and the other on my hip. He looked at them and bit his lip, but he didn't move them. I smiled. Eyes locked. Mine questioned; his hesitated and, then, agreed. I pulled him down more, but slower; when we were an inch apart he closed his eyes again, his fingers digging into me. I rubbed a thumb over his cheek and kissed him.

Naturally, it was awkward. This was an experiment, he said, and I was simply a willing test subject. He obviously had minimal experience, even with girls, as he just sat there, mouth puckered and slightly trembling. I sighed through my nose and massaged the heels of my hands in the hinges of his jaw. He gasped and opened his mouth. I tilted mine to get better leverage, holding him tightly, too tightly, and Al's hands slid up my shirt and he started to kiss me back, clumsy and uneven. I held him steady and taught him how to move slow and tongue, biting his lip when he got it wrong. I loved how he tasted - like concentrated citrus. I tried to keep my head, this wasn't real, it never would be, but America obviously lost himself because he pulled me onto his lap and took to my lessons like freedom and it was slow, a slow dance, and we could breathe so we didn't stop, no reason that I saw we should. Every new movement he let out a different sound, as changing as his laughter, and I was using up all my tricks just to hear them all. Did he ever run out? I ran my hands down his neck and to his shoulders, tracing his spine on his neck, and he moaned and pulled me tighter.

It took brushing my tongue between his lip and front teeth to make him pull away, panting and staring at me. I wondered what his skin tasted like, and took the chance to kiss his nose, his cheeks, his forehead. Linger.

"Whoa." I smiled against his skin, and he chuckled breathlessly. I bent down to try his neck. " _Christ_ -" His fingernails dug into my sides as I licked up the side of his neck. Even better.

"Has anyone ever told you that you taste wonderful?" I whispered, nudging aside his shirt collar to kiss collarbone. He tilted his head back.

"Doesn't ring a bell," he breathed, his body following his head and he was on his back, clutching me, legs bent at my sides. His shirt needed to come off so I could taste his chest, his shoulders. My hands wandered of their own mind down to his hem as he turned his head to press his mouth against whatever part of me he could reach, which happened to be my hair, and made a sound like sniffing. I looked up at him as my hands continued their slow crawl down. He smiled, pupils wide. "Has anyone ever told you that you smell wonderful?"

I smiled in return. "Doesn't ring a bell." My hands reached his hem and I backed up so I could pull it off. He accepted this for the span of two seconds.

"Whoa, whoa, Arthur! Aren't we moving too fast or something?" he protested, arms threatening to fall away from the embrace, shirt half up his stomach. I smirked.

"Only if you want it to," I said softly, rubbing circles into his stomach. He shivered and arched up into the touch, and I realised we were hard. "Fuck," I whispered, barely breathed, then leaned down to kiss him to cut off questions. He lifted his body to allow me to take off the shirt, and I pulled away to taste at the newly exposed skin. His arms lifted away for the first time and I felt empty, but he simply threw the shirt away and grabbed me again, exploring my back with now wild hands as I twisted along his shoulders and down by centimeters, nails reacting to my every move and my back would surely be a maze of red marks but oh, who cares. New sounds kept coming, and I relished in them. They were for me, completely, and it was thrilling and intoxicating.

I paused and stared at tan, considering. My smirk curled up, and I looked up at his face to find him staring down at me, disheveled and dark and _oh_ , he's perfectly lovely, he's America in blue and gold and white. His eyes say nothing, his mind is blank. This had gotten out of hand, and we relished.

I shifted down to lick at a nipple, and he broke the dark contact to moan, head thrown back, scrabbling in the red maze frantically as I swirled my tongue, pressing circles into his stomach, dangerous close to his hips. He bucked against them, and we had to move. I wouldn't go farther in my _bathroom_.

I moved back up to his face, trailing kisses and tongue to his mouth. He struggled to breathe properly as I tongued my way into his mouth, and he was willing, so very willing. I pulled away, his heavy breath ghosting over my lips. "We should go somewhere else, if you want to keep going," I whispered, and he nodded without restraint. I laughed and sat up, pulling him with me by beltloops. His legs surrounded me, so he stood first, no longer tipsy, and pulled me up, not giving me a moment to settle myself before he bent and kissed me different, bent forefinger under my chin, clumsy still but tender, and I trembled, I clung. I gripped his neck and pulled my legs up around his waist and he took this in stride for once, hands quickly shifting down to the under of my thighs as my arms wrapped tighter, hands splayed around shoulders and he walked slowly out of the bathroom, still kissing me tender.

We stumbled down the hall, slamming into the wall randomly when he lost his balance or we wanted leverage as I taught him what his body already knew through demonstration, grinding down and nipping at his lip, shoulder, ear, neck, back to mouth, and he reciprocated slowly, with less teeth than I would like, hands and body a constant warmth until my back hit something forgiving and we almost fell through my door. He set me down on a bed, and I relaxed my arms so I could kiss him languid, and he stood between my legs still, hands behind my knees and reciprocating. Hands pulled me closer and wider, and I let myself believe he knew what he was doing. Hips met.

"If you ever want to stop-" I said while switching tilts, and he moaned and shook his head harshly, hair stinging my face. I crossed my ankles at his lower back and pressed in my heels, trying to scratch the itch building up in my stomach. He ground into me and took his hands away to slide them between shirt and skin again, and I shivered as he lifted it up slowly, and I raised my arms so he could pull it away. He discarded in the same manner as his own - over his shoulder, out of sight out of mind - and pushed me down and to the side as he crawled over me. I shifted to the side so we would fit and realised we were in Mathias's bed. I smirked slightly, then shifted to a smile at the look America was giving me.

"Something wrong?" I asked him, hands back on his face. His eyelids fluttered a tad but the blue didn't fade. Blue and tan and white. He shook his head slowly first, then quickly like a wet dog.

"Just wondering how we got here," he mumbled against my mouth between short kisses, and I laughed. He bent down to my neck and smiled as he pressed open mouths to it.

I scrabbled against his back with fingers and heels. Something about his fumbling inexperience but his surprisingly drastic learning curve turned me on. I wondered what else I could teach him.

I found my hands resting in the middle of his back, fingertips in the hollow of his spine. I traced it down to his jeans as he shivered in my arms, face resting in my collar as I let my legs fall down and sat up slightly as I ran my fingers around the inside, hot skin bristling as I shifted outside, inside, deeper, listening to him in my throat as he whined. I knew his thoughts.

I traced my little fingers in the hollows parallel to his hipbones. "Christ, Arthur," he breathed, holding up my lower back so he could rut into me properly. "What are you _doing_?" I put my ankles in the hollows of his knees and pulled.

"Teaching." He chuckled into my skin, and my heart pounded too loudly. My hands stuttered around to the front of his jeans, and he didn't move to stop me, but just froze as I fingered open his fly. "What do you want, love?" I whispered into his ear, and he shuddered. I barely brushed him through his boxers and he cried out faintly. He obviously couldn't decide for himself. "Then I'll give you a little bit of everything. You'll get the whole experience that way." He nodded into my shoulder until I stopped him with a kiss to his temple. He pulled himself up so we could kiss properly. My other hand slid down the front of his jeans as well, and he reacted without thought, jerking and bucking and his hands still on my back drew me up, and _how_ was I supposed to get anything done with that distraction in my lap? I felt him up properly, though still through his boxers, and he cried out, biting into my neck and I groaned, hands tightening in a reflex. He was new, he wouldn't last long. I couldn't play like I wanted (Not too much, at least).

I squeezed one more time and pulled my hands away, sliding them to the back of his legs so I could pull him forward, shifting downward and ignoring his protests. It would only get better, if only he knew.

I kissed at his chest hovering above me, and I heard cloth shift as he scrabbled for purchase in the bedspread. My hands slid, never losing contact, back to his spine as I held him close, licking at the trail on his lower stomach. He jerked. I dipped my hands back into his waistband and tugged, pulling his jeans and his boxers down slowly. He growled and made to sit back to move them himself, but I chuckled and pressed a hand onto his ass to keep him from doing anything drastic. He squeaked, and I made a discovery.

I quickly freed his hips completely and abandoned his pants halfway down his thighs so I could grab with both hands as I lifted my upper body to lick. He cried out like it was a surprise; I don't know how he couldn't have known it was coming, but it still caused him to jerk up and then back, pulling me forward as he fell on his back between my legs, and I still was attached by his hips but all I could do was watch as he bent back, and I thanked teenaged gods as he was able to bend back with all muscle showing. We fell oddly, I was still hovering around his lower regions as he gasped.

I had to chuckle. "Well, now, that was interesting." I knelt properly between his knees and embraced his stomach loosely. I looked up at him and watched his body breathe. "The way you act I'd say you've never been handled before." He looked away, and I smiled. "Nothing to worry about, love," I assured him, turning back to my task. I made sure to hold more than his hips down as I tasted him again. Even here he tasted like summer citrus.

He certainly didn't hold any reaction back, thrusting and crying as he did, hands burying in my hair before his mind knew what was going on. I distracted him by pulling at his pants again, ducking under them, pulling them completely off behind me. I had America naked.

I set to work again, body tuned to every noise from him as the variety kept coming, increasing in volume as I twirled and twisted, hand at a hip and a knee, one of his back in my hair and the other in the spread, grounding himself as he tried to control. At least he knew that much. It was so enjoyable working on a virgin, I had forgotten, for everything is new to them, _everything_ , even the vanilla, so everything was respond and reaction, dependent on you. No experience to compare, no comparison.

Much quicker than I would've believed, though, his other hand gripped my hair and pulled me away slowly, then dragged me up to his face in a swift pull. I cried out even as I grinned. He couldn't know about that, could he, it was instinct. This was good.

He kissed me again, and I relished that he could taste his summershine. He pulled away. "I feel like I'm being impolite," he murmured. I scoffed.

"Don't be foolish. This is about you, remember?" I reminded him. Another quick kiss.

"Mmm, but that's not how it should be - unless it's a hooker, and goddammit, Arthur, you ain't no hooker," he said, suddenly harsh and foreign. He still made me laugh. He grinned. "Now it's my turn." Soft and husky. My breath caught.

Lightning, his hands flew from my tangled hair to my zip and he kept his eyes on my face as he played with it, biting his lip. A moment's hesitation. I smiled as dearly as I could. (Looking at him, it was easy.) He sucked in a breath and dove in, grabbing and he obviously had never done this before, not to someone else, and I quickly reached down and put my hands over his, guiding. He chewed his lip more, and I bent forward to chew it for him, our hands still sliding over me. Did this count as self-satisfaction or not?

As with everything, he picked it up easily, and soon he flipped us over again, crouched one-handed, sitting back slowly as he trailed serpentine down. He tried out the nipple trick and I let own a surprised squawk. He licked once more in a circle, and I felt his smirk even as I made it again. He bit it gently and my hands flew up to his head, forcing him down, _Do it again_. Harder this time. My breath shattered, and he never stopped stroking.

I wrenched his head back up, I wanted to taste him; the pleasure around my chest was tiny compared to the desire for sunshine on my tongue. He took delicious initiative and reached one hand up to the other nipple, rolling and pinching, and I writhed as I held us together by our mouths. I pressed our bare chests together and we gasped together. Together, we twisted tongues and both of us still tasted like him, and I was ravenous. I chewed and licked away from his face down his jaw and neck, and his hand took courage and brushed my sac. I bit his shoulder harshly, and he hissed, his free hand going to my head, _Do it again_.

I kissed my way down his free arm, falling away from my hair so I could hold his fingers with both hands and kiss them. He stared at me as I barely licked each knuckle, then took three of them in my mouth. His face fell open as I sucked along them, coating them. His hand stopped for the first time.

"Time for step three," I mumbled around his fingers. "Take off my pants."

Far too happy to comply, he bent to his assigned task, struggling to do it one-handed since I was still sucking all the bright flavor from his hand. I lifted my hips to help him, then reached up and wrapped my legs around his waist. I pulled his wet fingers from my mouth slowly, staring at him. "Do you know to prepare?" His eyebrows furrowed slightly. I guided his hand down to my entrance and separated his fingers, pushing one in with a hiss. He gulped, eyes still wide, but he knew what was happening now. "You won't fit otherwise," I whispered. He shuddered and buried his face in my neck, wrapping his other arm around my torso firmly. I grinned into his hair as he pushed his finger in, swirling it around.

"This should be weirder," he whispered idly, bending his finger, and I moaned, arching up. He tilted his head and kissed my neck, under my jaw. I bucked up, and I loved not having to tell him to put a second in. He scissored viciously and I yelped, uncontrollable. He smirked into my clavicle. I was used to this, I was, but just having him, _him_ , do this, it was stimulating, and reactions grew.

He nudged my chin down with his forehead so he could look at me. I panted and stared, hips fucking his fingers. He smiled. "Hey there, good lookin'." He bent forward to kiss my nose, and I flushed and smiled.

"Completely uncalled for," I grumbled, and he laughed, twisting his wrist to swirl his fingers in me. Ragged. His nose traced on my forehead into my hairline as he moved upward to kiss my eyebrows, my forehead again, dipping back to my open mouth. He added a third slowly, and I bit his tongue to keep from crying out in pleasure-tainted pain. A jolt went through him, _Oh, do it again_. I pulled at it and tugged it out, taking both tongue and bottom lip in my teeth, a distraction for me. His fingers flattened, crossed over inside. There was no way he knew how to do that, it had to come natural-

Goddamn, he was a motherfucking natural at this. I twisted and stretched under him, hands scrabbling at neck and spine as he took his tongue back and licked haphazardly along my upper lip, my lower, his fingers spread out triangle. I felt ready.

Reluctance. I pulled away from his mouth slowly, pushing him to the side on his back. He cocked his head, curious, as I sat up. I didn't want to lose him in me, not now, but I needed to do my job getting him ready. I smirked down at him, then shifted around so we were backwards to each other, and I wasted no time in slicking him up, hands gripping bent legs upside down. His arm bent awkwardly for a moment before he sorted himself out, forearm on my back. He panted but didn't lose his head. I _felt_ him ponder even as I sucked him, slathering, and I felt his other hand gently part my ass and toy with my entrance with his thumb. I struggled not to bite down, but let myself moan. A shiver went up his body, and I loved feeling it all over.

"I've always wondered," I thought I heard him breathe, but I forgot when he lifted himself up to lick from my sac back to his fingers. I gasped and pulled away, turned, bit into his inner thigh. His free hand scrabbled at flesh, but he continued, licking around my entrance, around his fingers. I felt his lips frown in contemplation. I went back to my job, licking his length wet. I wondered what I tasted like to him.

I finished slicking him up just as he delved in deeper and licked in the tiny hole between his fingers, a slightly pleased sound echoing in his throat. I closed my eyes and leaned against the inside of his thigh as I just felt, letting him experiment on me and going beyond enjoying it. After a moment, though, he pulled away.

"Neh, don't think that's for me." He pulled his hands away and gripped my waist, easily lifting me and turning me around. I was too startled to protest as he pulled me close, rolling over again, our sides hitting the wall. He beamed down at me, and I smiled before I knew what I was doing. I was all reaction with him.

He reached up with the hand slick with me to touch my lips. I opened them quickly and took them in my teeth, sucking them in deep. I couldn't pinpoint my taste at all. His eyes widened, still beaming, wild now. My eyelids lowered. I lifted my legs to rest my knees in his bent elbows. Glance flickered down, back, a challenge; he shrugged them up to his shoulders. I raised my eyebrows at him, then reached above my head and interlocking my fingers. Heat in his gaze as he gripped them with one hand.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked me, but his eyes didn't question. I had to laugh.

I tangled my fingers in his, ankles crossing. "I should be the one asking you." He grinned. I knew his answer, but he still told me.

"I want to try." He positioned himself, and I kept his eyes so he wouldn't hesitate. He still did, but only briefly.

He slid in slowly, and we both buried into necks as we shuddered, clasping with limbs we had. He started muttering about religion and I just breathed, breathed, breathed, adjusting in gasps, still.

"Mary the Madonna, this feels so _good_ ," I picked out when my mind cleared some, and I jerked up, trying to set a rhythm. A rhythm, we needed, we knew now. He shoved in deep, holding nothing back, never back, and his free hand tugged at the hair on my neck to make me tilt back, and we kissed again, more of a shoving of tongues together. Still contact, still taste. I pulled him down with my calves to press chests together, and the bed shifted under me and he thrusted like I was life itself. His lovers would be lucky.

I gasped. "Tight enough for you, love?" I said into his mouth. He groaned and shoved forward at a different angle, and my mouth opened in a soundless scream, convulsing around him, fingers squeezing life out of his.

He thrust shallower, not losing the rhythm but giving me space. "What was that?"

I sucked in a breath. Another. "Prostate," I panted, pulling him down, _Do it again_.

He obeyed, finding the angle again and my scream has words this time, I think it's his name, I don't know which one. I twitch all over, hands pulling against his grip to try and grip him, but he's iron. He's strong. I love it.

Naturally, he doesn't last long before he's biting in my mouth and scrabbling at my neck, hand letting mine go to grip my hip like steel as he fills me, still hitting my prostate, and even though I'm me and not short-lived, his raw reaction has me curling up and shuddering, and the only thing I'm aware of are the places we touch, which are made of many. I shudder and twist.

I come down to his hand stroking through my hair and humming. He's pulled out at some time and I'm empty, but he holds me close and breathes in my scent through my skin, still over me. He's humming hallelujah.

I blinked open and looked up at him staring, soft in his afterglow. I smirk as I fight off mine. "So what did you think?" He blinked slowly in the question.

"I could _definitely_ do that again," he settles, shifting to the side to cup me close. His limbs circled mine. "Can we?" His voice held more than a two word question. I reached back to place my arms over his as he buried his face in my hair.

"Mmm. I think it could work."

He smiled against my scalp, arms shifting. "I love us." He dropped off like usual. Sleeping was a cliffside, dreaming the fall. Was waking the impact for him?

I closed my eyes and relished in Mathias's plush mattress pad, cold in some places and blistered in others but I didn't want to leave to find a blanket. I thanked stars he never made his bed as I carefully maneuvered the crumpled quilt at my feet up to reaching distance, covering us haphazardly. I never asked what he thought I smelled like, what I tasted like. It could wait until the next time.

 


End file.
